


Scrabble and Melons

by DenmarkStreetGutterClub



Series: Making Unlikely Smut Work [2]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Board Games, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Making Unlikely Smut Work, Scrabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29996448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenmarkStreetGutterClub/pseuds/DenmarkStreetGutterClub
Summary: Strike and Robin play word games.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Making Unlikely Smut Work [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2206536
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	Scrabble and Melons

**Author's Note:**

> Vaguely inspired by the classic Thomas Crown Affair chess scene.

“Oh, come on, you’ve been staring at it for ten minutes already,” Robin said, sipping her southern comfort and coke, her bare legs folded underneath herself, wearing the over-sized t-shirt she wore to sleep at his place. “You’ve either got something, or you haven’t.”

Strike narrowed his eyes and reached over to the bowl of peanuts without looking. 

“Shh,” he said, popping a few nuts in, “I’m nearly there.”

He waited another thirty seconds and then nodded, putting five letters in a line underneath the M in the top left of the Scrabble board.

“E - L - O - N - S.” he said as he laid each tile down, and snickered when the word was complete.

“Melons?” Robin asked. “You had the letters to make that and you took that long to work it out? I think you’re losing your touch.”

Strike was taking a sip of his own drink and she caught a flash of challenge in response.

“I think we both know that’s not true,” he said, shaking the bag of tiles and fishing a load out. Robin grinned.

“You’ve got far too big a handful there,” she chided, and his eyebrow quirked up.

“You have literally never complained about that before,” he replied.

There was a beat, and the atmosphere had shifted from leisurely recreational game to something a little more dangerous. Robin looked down with a small smile, and then back up again, resuming her gaze with more focus.

“Well, show me what you’ve got there and I’ll give you a final verdict,” she said.

Strike released the large handful of tiles down on the table between them, and spread them out. He held her eyes for a few seconds longer, and then looked down to see what letters he had.

“Right,” he said, thinking. “How about C-O-C-K?”

He picked up the letters and put them in a line on the board.

“Hmm,” Robin said, having another drink, “not like you to go straight for the endgame. You usually work up to it.”

She put her drink down and reached for the tile bag herself, fishing out a decent amount of the plastic cream tiles. Looking at what she had, she smirked.

“L-I-C” she said as she tapped each tile into place above the K. “Lick,” she confirmed.

Strike watched her mouth as she said it, and was rewarded by her running her tongue lightly along her top lip.

“See? Starting somewhere else,” Robin said.

“Not gonna lie, Robin, but when you say lick, it’s the first place my mind goes,” he said, eating more peanuts.

She looked at his hand tossing the snacks in. She scanned her tiles and put down four letters in a row by themselves.

“N-U-T-S. Nuts,” she said.

“You’ve put them in the middle of the board. They’re not attached to anything,” he said, momentarily forgetting the focus shift of the game.

“I bloody hope they are,” she chuckled.

“Now who’s focusing on endgame?” Strike shot back.

“Ok, your turn then. Give me your best linguistic foreplay,” Robin replied, folding her arms.

Strike pouted thoughtfully, and then picked up his next five choices.

“F-O-N-D-the L is already there -E. Fondle,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “And I’ve done it properly, connecting it to lick.”

“Following the rules, eh?” Robin remarked, and put ITS under the T on NUTS.

“If you don’t follow the rules in the first place it’s not so much fun when you break them,” he replied, putting OB under the N.

“Doesn’t that start with K? How come so many words for penis have a K in them?” Robin asked.

“Alright, I think you can probably go a bit too far with knowing the rules,” Strike said lightly, grinning.

“And we’re back to where we started anyway. If you’re going to keep the focus there, you’re going to have to follow through,” Robin told him, downing the last of her drink.

“Do you think I had any other plans?” He told her, downing his too.

“I think we forgot to keep score for these last few words,” she said, and they hadn’t looked away from each other.

“You win,” he said, looking at her hungrily. It hung in the air between them for a charged, crackling moment and then the game was really on. Robin pushed herself up and forward, and launched herself at him over the low table between them, clambering over it before he had a chance to meet her in the middle, grabbing his face and kissing him with enthusiasm. He leaned into her, on the edge of his seat now, pulling her to him so that she was now perched on the edge of the table, tiles scattering behind her. He ran his hand down the front of her t-shirt, between her legs, and played practiced circles where he knew she liked it.

“See, I’m not all about cock,” he said against her mouth and she smiled into him.

“No, but I am,” she said, reaching down and unzipping him. They played and kissed for a few minutes more, enjoying the sensations and sounds and working each other up until Robin pulled Strike forward, indicating what she wanted by laying back on the coffee table, pulling his kiss with her. He followed her, and the connection was swift and satisfying, and Robin hooked her legs around his waist and let him lead the rhythm, knowing he knew exactly what made her wild. The sex was frantic and inelegant, but the rushed and desperate nature of it drove them both to their climax with shuddering efficiency and Robin let her head fall back into the space beyond the table as she caught her breath and Strike panted into her shoulder. She let out a throaty chuckle and felt him grin into her skin.

“You’re gonna have to get up. I’ve got a scrabble tile wedged in my arse crack,” she said.


End file.
